


New Friends and the Very Oldest

by Etnoe



Category: Pirates of the Caribbean: The Curse of the Black Pearl (2003), Pride and Prejudice - Jane Austen
Genre: Crossover, Crossover Pairings, Curses, Dancing, F/M, Fae & Fairies, Post-Curse of the Black Pearl, Repression
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-26
Updated: 2016-08-26
Packaged: 2018-08-10 09:27:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,593
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7839436
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Etnoe/pseuds/Etnoe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>England welcomes back a not particularly favoured son - though absence does make the homeland grow fonder.</p><p>Meanwhile, Elizabeth simply hopes to get to know an odd new friend better.</p>
            </blockquote>





	New Friends and the Very Oldest

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lynndyre](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lynndyre/gifts).



Elizabeth heard of the most boring man in Hertfordshire mere moments before meeting him.

This went entirely against tradition, and in a lesser inhabitant of the neighbourhood might have resulted in discomposure in the face of the stranger who merited being described in such extraordinary terms. By rights it was a reputation that should have been discussed in private rooms and fairly quiet corners at public gatherings, among friends and acquaintances alike and at great lengths, so that even had she never seen the man, she would have had an idea of all his public actions from multiple sources. The judgement was delivered by her youngest sisters, however, and considering their powers of observation, Elizabeth did not take it for an incisive assessment. She was not overly unsettled.

The explanation they offered in leading up to this judgement, tumbling over each other in word and giggling deed, did admittedly have a slightly embarrassing amount of merit, but she could not credit it unchecked:

"Oh, Lizzy - Mary made a friend! He is here, and you absolutely must come to meet him!" Kitty burst out with it, and then Lydia gleefully took up her part in the revelation.

"Such a friend - handsome, and yet - oh, it was so awful that it was amusing after all!"

"He is a dread bore, Lizzy - if he is to be Mary's admirer--"

"After only one meeting!"

"Surely, to be so instantly partial to her, he must be the most boring man in all of Hertfordshire!"

With that they ran from the room. Elizabeth was not left alone long to digest this, as her father entered next.

"Ah, Elizabeth, my dear. If you would be so kind as to come and serve as a fellow observer of a hastily invited guest - a gentleman who I have today introduced to the dearest of my didactic daughters - dearest, especially because I have no other daughters so very didactic--"

"Papa! You surely could not have introduced Mary in such a way," she reproached with a laugh.

"If I had, would he have found the description negative or would he have appreciated it? That is why I need you as an observer. And even as a hostess, given that my invitation was extended as a visit moreso than an inspection. Take my arm and accompany me, Lizzy, as your mother and Jane are still out."

The gentleman was outside having his horse seen to, as he had travelled a fair distance on it and wished to see it as well-settled as could be during this visit. Mary and Hill were in the process of putting together a light tea ready to serve in the drawing room. Elizabeth offered a suggestion or two where Mary faltered, and exchanged a questioning glance with her to get the measure of her temperament. She found there mingled excitement and irritation - transformed into irritation alone when Lydia and Kitty returned to the room at a remarkable speed, more primped than they had been before.

The stranger finished his business at the stables shortly afterwards, fortunately for Elizabeth's curiosity, and appeared first to an announcement from Lydia where she peeked out the windows, and then more properly when he appeared at the door of the room.

A boring man - a singularly boring man, in a neighbourhood that could, on a trying day, be described as having a fair supply of candidates for such a description - could not have such a look about him, Elizabeth decided immediately.

There was humour to him, some hint of it about his eyes and the set of his mouth. In his proclamation of gratitude for the welcome and for being assisted by Mr Bennett and Mary, there was enough sincerity that Elizabeth witnessed him pardoning to himself the excesses of Kitty and Lydia, who whispered together and exchanged elbowings before settling. He might properly have had a rakish air, as a handsome stranger to enter the household so suddenly, but though his clothes bore evidence of travel his manner was such that he gave the impression of being immaculately put-together; that was the only fault.

"But, as you can see, sir, introductions are not yet complete," Mr Bennett said. "Commodore James Norrington. This is my second-eldest, Elizabeth."

"Ah," said the Commodore, and then, "At your service. Delighted to meet you, Miss Bennett."

He was in the area as a service to a friend, she learned as introductory conversation continued, his business to inspect Netherfield on his friend's behalf and see if the estate would be fit to lease. He and Mr Bennett had encountered one another in the bookstore in Meryton, as the Commodore took a moment to refresh himself before the last leg of the journey, and Mr Bennett had found him congenial enough company to offer an escort to his neighbouring estate of Netherfield. (Elizabeth suspected that some oddity must have manifested itself at this point already.) The Commodore confessed that his friends had done a service to him in suggesting that he take charge of the inspection, as he had been at his family home in London, but found that he had lost his taste for that city.

And this was due to the fact that prior to the Navy recalling him to England, he had been living on a Caribbean island. He told them that his home, Port Royal, was a bustling port and a city in its own right in that area, but it could not compare to London. And then he went on to ask them their opinion of life in town, and had they relations there, and was travel generally easy between here and there…?

Unaccountably, that single mention of his island home was the last mention that Commodore Norrington made of his personal history. Yet he surely knew it would be exceedingly interesting to most people he encountered here! Politeness should only be stretched so far - they had nothing like his exotic experiences to offer on their side of the conversation, and yet he insisted on engaging them to contribute their parts. If he only were a bore!—then he might speak with blithe assurance of himself, and surely no pomposity could have entirely eclipsed the mysteries and beauty of bright seas and scattered islands. But he had not the decency to be tedious company. Elizabeth was left to attempt to move back unnoticed from perching on the edge of her seat in eagerness, colouring as she realised that she, Kitty, and Lydia had formed a triad in this posture. They still seemed to hold some hope for entertainment.

Norrington was speaking of his travels to Hertfordshire instead of anything remotely engaging. "The peace of the countryside is something that I can't say I've sought since coming of age, and yet I now feel that this journey was by far the best choice to make." He smiled at the company. "With your kind welcome my impression can only be reinforced."

Mary moved to speak, and here Elizabeth could not help the urge to catch the eye of Lydia and Kitty. Swiftly she looked away before their suppressed mirth might show, but this seemed to be what they had waited for. "Commodore," said Mary, "I hope that you do not object to my saying, based on the conversation that we had on our way here, that I think you could quite surprise my sisters in the assertion that you made."

A cat that spent most of its time outside had found its way into the house and now entered the room to arch against Norrington's leg and that of his chair, purring intermittently. He arched a brow and reached down to scratch behind its ears, so no one offered to remove it. "Remind me, Miss Mary," he requested.

"You mentioned your greatest adversary in the battle to keep the Caribbean clear of marauders..."

"Ah, yes," Mr Bennett said with too much pleasure, and settled more comfortably in his chair.

"Compromise," Norrington rapped out.

"Not the cruelty of the marauders and pirates and things themselves? At all?" Kitty cried.

"Compromise is an insidious force. Once admitted, it leads at least once to an irreparable action. That action cannot be erased; and if its consequences are not immediately evident, compromise might seem a reasonable tactic to employ multiple times."

"Leading to yet more irreparable consequences. It is thus important always to be as unbending as possible, to your mind, sir?"

"Yes, quite. Morals may be challenged only with long reflection, and quite away from sites of action. When times of action come, decisions can be made according to the fruits of such careful thought. It would, at any rate, make for an easier world if only that could be so."

"I agree most thoroughly - a better-ordered world. Reading and discussion, I believe, would enhance such reflections. Not necessarily at all times, but to serve on occasion as a focus for the thoughts."

There was so much to challenge that Elizabeth could not begin, and only marvelled. Her father, too, sat as he might while out in general society, silent in pleased, sardonic observation.

"Oh, la!" Lydia said. "Is this what people mean when they talk about military discipline? I must say that I haven't seen much of that kind of thing among the militia in Meryton."

Norrington smirked. "No, indeed, if we refer to military discipline. Naval discipline is another matter."

Here Elizabeth could find her voice. "You shall make enemies before you know it, sir, if you say such things. My sisters are good friends with several officers. If one were to come up to our door unexpectedly, why, who knows what he might hear."

"If a militia man were present, and I would be happy if one were, we would most likely enjoy trading a few taunts of that nature; it's something that comes with the professions that fight for a country. Then again, it's probably as well that there is no soldier here to protest, as it might result in a discussion not suitable for young ladies."

"What a coincidence that you should say that," Mary said. "I have a book regarding that precise subject, and it is most edifying. I wonder if you know of James Fordyce's _Sermons to Young Women_?"

The question seemed to leave him in a measure of awe. He turned towards her as if he had never heard a thing more fascinating, and this when he had been behaving with utter normalcy in the very instant before. "I, well - That one has passed me by," the Commodore said. "Perhaps because I am evidently not the target audience, to judge by title. But I must say, Miss Mary, I doubt any young woman I'm acquainted with would have picked up a book with such a title. Or that they might have known it existed at all! Does this book offer any advice you intend to follow?"

"I have not yet read very deeply..."

Elizabeth suspected a similar kind of awe to Commodore Norrington's held her fixed in place in silence - she could not entirely believe that this was happening. His experience of the afternoon seemed more heavily weighted to the positive than hers, however; the absurdities might be amusing, but it would not do to laugh, and she feared how long most of them could remain serious.

"More tea, Commodore?" she offered, and stood to pour for everyone who indicated a need for more. "I must confess I am most curious to hear how it feels for you to be back home after such a journey."

"The travels being over is a blessing in itself - I have been far from lax in putting in my hours at sea, and still enjoy my time shipboard, but such a long journey is always taxing. But - though it surprises me to say this - the realisation has come to me in the past few weeks that I can hardly think of England as home anymore," he said. His smile was rueful and joyful at once, and she fancied that there must be such stories behind it...

The skies themselves interrupted: winds rattled the windows, had the lights guttering, and made everyone except the Commodore jump. Then the rains poured down.

Speaking was difficult for a time, the storm raged so - it seemed rude to raise their voices to the volume necessary to be clearly heard. Audible were snippets of worry for Mrs Bennet and Jane, a few comments on perhaps checking the Commodore's horse, and then that Commodore Norrington would have to stay the night.

"But a minor disaster, I assure you--" said Mr Bennett.

"The night!" Lydia exclaimed shrilly, and was despatched to assist Elizabeth in making arrangements for their guest.

"To make you feel welcome, sir," Elizabeth said, bobbing a curtsey in goodbye, Lydia bobbing behind her. "A tropical hurricane, ordered in specially." The fat drops of rain rattled the windows harder.

He paused as if struck by something - oh dear, she hoped she had not awakened a poor memory for him! What was jest for her was very likely a lived reality for the Commodore. "No, indeed, ma'am. Is this not merely the vaunted wet English weather? I could not forget something so fundamental."

Elizabeth smiled but he was slow to return it, and she believed that had indeed set him to recalling some other, worse storm. As she spoke with the housemaids, she resolved to watch her words in front of this officer, someone with experiences so different from hers (she must presume).

In the end it was no event whatsoever to have the Commodore stay over, however unusual it was for a strange man to be under their roof. Possibly Lydia or Kitty had suspicions of love at first sight and a clandestine meeting between Commodore Norrington and Mary - it would explain, at least, the heavy sigh with which Mary turned her back on them in the early evening, and how thoroughly she ignored them subsequently. Mrs Bennett and Jane were so soaked on their arrival - though they had been out visiting in the carriage, merely the dash from the carriage to the Longbourn doorstep had been damaging enough - that it left them little time to be introduced to the Commodore before being bundled to their rooms and beds in hopes of avoiding illness. Commodore Norrington was out of sight of most of the household for a good part of the evening, sitting in the library with Mr Bennett, and so things went fairly normally.

Elizabeth did find her thoughts lingering on him, but that was natural enough, as despite himself, his arrival was the most notable event to happen in some time. Her evening and night were not too far out of the ordinary.

The next morning the rain continued, but the Commodore left. He had a duty to his friends, he asserted, and would see it through. The weather _probably_ did not amount to a hurricane - a nod and a slight smile towards Elizabeth - and a walk might even do him good. He would rather be back later for the horse.

"Well!" Mrs Bennett expostulated. She looked at Mary and then at the spot in the misty wetness where the Commodore had disappeared. "I can't say that I understand - but if he should live through this .... Well. I'm sure there are stranger people in the world."

"He is very sensible," Mary asserted, and went to practice the piano.

"I do think he might have told us a bit more about such people, as I'm sure he must have encountered some," Elizabeth said with a sigh.

"The inhabitants of wild Caribbean islands! And sailors and pirates and foreign dignitaries!" Kitty agreed.

The outside cat came into the house with a mouse, lurked around the room the Commodore had stayed in, then skulked away with no urge to present it to anyone else. When Elizabeth heard the story from a theatrically-shuddering Lydia, she found it rather odd that the Commodore had won the cat over so swiftly. It had never been as affectionate as all that.

The rains had blown over before noon. It left the ground in such condition as to be rather foolish to walk on, but Elizabeth found herself restless and could not settle indoors. She ventured out when she could be spared and rambled, close to the house, for longer than she usually did, and if she returned without much satisfaction she was at least too tired to feel restless. That night the dreams began.

 

 

Mary and the Commodore's friendship continued in the next few days, so that on his visits first to retrieve his horse, then to speak to Mr Bennett about some issues of estate business - and also to have idle chats over a drop or two - he would enquire at the end if he might speak a moment or two with her. Even serene Jane rushed to Elizabeth's side a few days later, departing from the house and into the garden with her head bowed to hide a smile. "Mary is now reading to him - from Fordyce's _Sermons_ \- they are debating it most seriously."

"Could they do otherwise? But no, Jane - I fear you do not tell me all - even with the seriousness, they are both enjoying themselves, are they not? There is a certain instinct that tells me the Commodore is looking very pleased with himself this minute."

"Mother hardly knows how to react, and is closely focused on her embroidery." Jane had to hide her laughter against her sister's shoulder for a moment. "It's such a topic as she is sure does not suit any kind of courtship, and indeed, one not inspiring a hint of a flirtatious air between them, but she is at a loss to explain what is going on otherwise."

"It is clear to me what we must conclude. This is a true meeting of like minds."

"That phrase is familiar. Then Mary also told you so?"

"Aha," Elizabeth said. "Yes, I had thought that if Mary came to me, she would also have spoken to the kindest audience in our family. She told me also that this is truly but a pleasant friendship - she feels only that for him, and she is a girl to him. And she was at pains to make it clear, but despite the fact that so overflowing sincerity can indicate that the truth is quite the opposite, I do in fact believe her." It appeared to give Mary a kind of pride - much like anyone might feel if she were being courted, but with the satisfaction that the relationship was already all it should be.

"Yes, she told me much the same, and you and I share a conclusion. I confess, Lizzy, I feel guilty. See how Mary flourishes under some attention. Being taken seriously has made her a good deal livelier."

"The brave Commodore, however, is the only one I know who could have taken on such a task. Oh, dear, perhaps that _was_ too unkind towards our sister," Elizabeth admitted. "Still, there is a rigidity in temperament that they appreciate in each other that I could not - though I believe Commodore Norrington has had more time to grow sensible of that aspect of his temperament, and so grown more sensible _about_ it than Mary has managed so far."

"She is but young, and will grow. And while the Commodore is here, there is a chance he provides her with an example of how to bend, sometimes."

"Yes, sometimes, on special occasions," Elizabeth said, and then realised she had said it more to provoke a deeper smile from Jane than because it was wholly true. She did not witness it often, but if she were quietly occupied while he spoke with the others, he did show the humour she had suspected in him. In fairness, she added, "And if she grows as sardonic as he sometimes can, it will be quite a delight to go about with her."

 

 

A week after Norrington's arrival in Hertfordshire, Mr Bennett ushered him from the library to the room where the ladies sat. Mr Bennett took a chair in the lee of a corner after they had said greetings, and that confirmed it to Elizabeth: something was afoot, if her father purposefully placed himself to take a view of the whole room. She offered the Commodore an encouraging smile.

He cleared his throat and appeared slightly agitated regardless. "I have some news that Mr Bennett has informed me you all would appreciate. I have this morning despatched a letter to advise my friend to lease Netherfield. His name is Charles Bingley - a gentleman I grew to know through one of my younger brothers, as they attended the same school."

A flurry of excitement ensued, the exact sort that Mr Bennett most liked to observe. Norrington sought out Mr Bennett's eye to give a frown. Was this a folly too far? Perhaps he sighed, but he still answered such questions as were aimed at him, though the worst of the flurry swiftly turned inwards.

"A Mr Charles Bingley, you say? A real gentleman at Netherfield, at last!"

"And friends, Mama! He is likely to bring a party with him to occupy the estate--won't it be exciting!"

"We must be sure to look our very best for the upcoming assembly, Lydia, oh, the next time we go to Meryton, we must--"

Elizabeth would not be able to say that she was not excited by the prospect of new neighbours, but she felt strongly how they had started to treat the Commodore as an intimate far too soon. It was worth considering that as a family they treated each other as oddities and novelties too easily and often, if a stranger could easily slip in among them by doing nothing more than fitting such descriptions--but for the present, she had best make conversation.

"Commodore, I believe you must take note of that mention of an upcoming assembly. Much talk will centre around the topic in the coming days, and I warn you, there are at the moment quite few gentlemen in the area. You will likely find yourself in such demand for dancing that the rigours of sailing will pale in comparison."

"Similar situations have often arisen in Port Royal," Norrington said. Despite herself, at the mention of his home Elizabeth straightened in her chair in the eagerness to hear more that never quite left her, and also felt more distinctly the weight of the dreams she'd been having - but he was talking, and she must concentrate. "I will face it with equal dedication."

"Commodore," said Jane, and he turned to her with such rapidity that Elizabeth felt she must have made too much of a show of her eagerness. Oh, dear, and here she had been attempting to make up for the excesses of her family!

"I wonder, would the fashions of the Caribbean and Hertfordshire be so very similar? You must receive news of England and travellers that would tell of such things as new dances, but it is such a distance, the fashions might not have kept pace, even among us who are fairly removed from the _ton_." Jane had coloured a little, serene though she generally was - Elizabeth suspected that she also felt the limits of their indifferent education. Though Jane's supposition was a logical one, it might be missing something that was entirely obvious to the Commodore.

Happily, this was not the case, and likely the Commodore had not even noticed the trace of colour on Jane's cheeks. "You are all too right, Miss Bennett. I shall have to depend on observation of other dancers and the forbearance of any partners I might have," he said with a slight wince. "Modes of dress were not what I expected when I landed - the only thing that saved me from looking as if I'd alighted from another time was my uniform, which passed well enough with the man on the street, and even that met with second looks once I went to report to my superiors. "

"Were the differences very great?" Jane asked.

"Things do feel very different when the ladies do not wear the pelts of snakes in their hair," the Commodore said, smiled back at her, and then bade his farewells.

It was another afternoon of long walks for Elizabeth to dispel restlessness, though she found her circumlocutions limited to an area fairly immediate to the house. She seemed to constantly wander close to other parties out walking; she heard laughter almost wherever she went, it seemed. A little less or a little more frustration and it might have been tempting to at least catch a glimpse of some pleasantly laughing strangers, but Elizabeth was only frustrated enough to want to avoid company entirely. Besides, temptation aside - she could not truly tempt propriety that way.

She indulged herself only in the beauty of the sun turning the landscape golden, and the breeze that tried to tug her curls out of shape. So she tugged a few hairpins loose and let the breeze do what it could.

 

 

Elizabeth contrived to be out of the house around the times Commodore Norrington was likely to visit. She fancied that he did not know how foolish she felt around him, but her self-knowledge was becoming difficult to bear. Avoiding the man was an imprecise science - he did not come over regularly, more so now that his friend Mr Bingley had written back to say that he was making arrangements to arrive within a few days and Norrington had taken on various duties at the estate to keep busy and make thing easier for Mr Bingley. He had never yet visited in the afternoon, but the span of a morning could nonetheless be a very long time to avoid the public rooms of home, if she guessed the day fine enough that he might call.

Jane kept her company this morning on a ramble, but it was not a terribly enjoyable walk as the company was due to concern. She knew that Elizabeth was sleeping poorly, and coaxed until Elizabeth had told her that she simply had vigorous dreams, of late. Not even nightmares - just dreams.

She found that she could not tell of the contents of the dreams. Even to Jane. It felt as if she betrayed herself, and so Elizabeth decided that she could not _yet_ talk to her beloved sister of this, but she would, when the dreams had stopped for some time and she could stop feeling foolish for being tormented as she was. Elizabeth asked that they speak of it no more and turn back in silence, taking comfort in walking arm in arm with Jane.

The comfort came to naught on stepping back into their house. Commodore Norrington was present, but that was the least of it. The scenario was dreadful: he was having dancing lessons.

"Oh Jane, Lizzy, good!" cried Mrs Bennett, pausing mid-step with the Commodore's hand clasped in hers. "You shall be another couple, and so we will form a better line."

"Is it not a lark?" Lydia cried. "And very useful too, for the Commodore."

They had had the chairs and tables moved to the sides of the room to clear a space, somehow convincing the Commodore that it was a necessity that his dancing be brought in line with the latest fashion of the neighbourhood; a calling, on their part, to assist a friend so that he might hold himself before all their neighbours at the assembly with the confidence to which he was accustomed. Elizabeth and Jane were in the room, slightly numbed with shock, and then arranged into the dance without even a whisper of protest, merely wide-eyed glances at each other.

Norrington saw the impropriety, Elizabeth was sure, avoiding her and her sister's eyes and clearing his throat self-consciously. Yet he also took his lessons seriously, and asked with great courtesy that each of them do him the honour of partnering with him in turn, resignation turned somewhat theatrical. She had to admit it was as well that he received this renewal of his English education, as his dancing was adequately accomplished but out of date, and sometimes with a few odd additional steps and turns. He very well might have had to neglect his duty as a gentleman at the assembly, and endured much comment and scrutiny.

With all the noise, it was inevitable that Mary would be attracted to see what was happening. Elizabeth hoped never to be part of such an assault on someone's sensibilities again. "This is not at all proper!" she said, mortification reddening her face. "Commodore Norrington, I apologise--"

"Dear Mary!" said Mrs Bennett. "Your sisters are very properly chaperoned by your Mama - what more could be needed? Now, come and help the Commodore. The value of practice cannot be overestimated, you well know, from saying it about sitting at your piano!"

"On occasion, things beyond our control simply happen," Norrington told Mary. "We must meet the unexpected head on and prove ourselves the equal to all such events, steadfast in ourselves."

She glared at him a moment, perhaps feeling betrayed in a moment where she most would have expected a partner, but looked considering. "I am not convinced, I think - but let us see," she said, and took his proffered hand. Mary had possibly the least clumsy dance she'd had with anyone, as was not as embarrassed by her mistakes as she usually would be.

There was something to recommend a little wildness after all - though Elizabeth simply did not know what she'd do if it should come out what had happened here, and she was not sure that the servants wouldn't speak of it. But she could not say that she didn't enjoy the time.

A discovery also gave her a strange sense of satisfaction. She knew that she reacted a little oddly to the Commodore, within herself, but he reacted oddly to her. When placed in contrast with her sisters, it was easier to realise that in general he barely looked at her, spoke far more to them than to her even when her turn came for the dance, and his hand barely brushed hers, where he could get away with such a light motion. But he smiled at her, still: that slight one, more a token of wariness than amusement, or friendship, or happiness.

Perhaps they would never be friends. She would never hear his stories, and he would lose out on an appreciative audience and no more. It was not so much that she was losing, either. But even if they were not to be more closely acquainted, she owed him an apology. When the time came that he ended the visit, Elizabeth said that she would see him to the door. Her mother swiftly bid them run along, all smiles, surely thinking that even if Mary would not ensnare the Commodore, Elizabeth was proving more sensible.

"Sir, a word, please," she said when they were out of earshot of the others, and she could see no servants. "I must apologise."

He stopped and clasped his hands behind his back, posture so correct that she might be a superior officer. _Why are you so nervous of me, sir?_ What a question that would be! "I simply wonder at, and wish to thank you for your forbearance regarding my sisters' antics. Their ideas can sometimes run quite wild - which is, at this point, an unsurprising statement to you, given the evidence of this afternoon."

"Certainly, it was not what I expected on coming to visit today," he allowed. "I suppose this is simply another way in which I have been far removed from fashionable society. It is as if I am on holiday in a strange land, as well as somewhere most familiar to me. A home where I am not known. The effect is that many things seem permissible, and if no one takes offence, then it is harmless to all. You need not fear that I would gossip, I assure you. It was kindly meant, after all. And who else do I know to gossip to?"

The jest settled oddly, without the confidence that would have brought spark to it, but he bowed respectfully. "Miss Bennett," he said. "Miss Elizabeth..." Had he ever said her name before? "I hope that you have not realised that I've treated you somewhat unfairly - but I have. It is through no fault of your own, but of a foolishness that I carry with me. You reminded me of someone - and now I am not sure whether you still do, or if I judge you only by your own considerable merits." And then he bid her good day.

"How dare you, sir," she said mildly watching his back. "Yet another intriguing story I cannot know!"

 

 

That night, Elizabeth ... perhaps ... well, it could only be that she awoke. It was not a dream - she knew what her dreams were, these days.

The sensation was not what it should be. There was more awareness in her skin than her mind, ears, or eyes, and it pricked and tingled and surged with heat. Scent was thick and beguiling in the air, enough to taste sweetness like some overripe fruit. And pressure, low and deep inside her.

And her feet ... so light, so swift, carrying her instead of waiting for her own opinion on it...

She knew that she had Jane's hand on one side and Kitty's in the other. Some awareness could be spared for the fact that Mary and Lydia helped each other along, and - Charlotte and Maria Lucas, too? Were there others? Movement was too swift for her to tell easily, but she thought so.

When they arrived, she could glimpse that yes, there were others, all in nightdresses ... sometimes, and in gowns otherwise, ones that billowed and flowed and flamed. She did not look down to see what settled on her own skin, and could not quite see herself in any case.

Servants greeted them on their way, bowing stiffly, holding candles that flickered in the dark. One led the way to the ballroom.

The dance began.

 

 

It would not stop.

 

 

Where did the music come from? What wickedness had been done to leave them ensnared in this manner? There was no point to questions. Everything was wrong, but the ways to pinpoint the qualities and essence of it were nearly unattainable. Elizabeth's feet felt the music to be a firm argument to keep moving. Moving over what - a perfectly ordinary floor or a circle of grass? It didn't matter.

The face in the corners, at the edge of the circle, they did not matter either. The lights among them did - these were not the candles the servants had held, and they should not look at the lights. The other young women, all of them danced with heads bowed, glancing slowly slantwise to keep track of each other. They had no partners, and the faces at the edge of circle did not seem to want to come closer ... if they did, could anything be done to stop them?

She did not know how to feel when a new pair of feet were dragged into the dance, a man's but at least a human man's, and when she glanced upwards she saw Commodore Norrington.

Worst of all was the pressure inside her that only grew. She knew what it was, an urge that belonged only to very late, very dark nights, and it might mean that the faces around the edges grew important after all. Was it possible to recognise male faces among them?  
He was as enchanted as the rest of them, awake and sleeping. There was one difference, strange and enormous: she could see a chain leading from his chest, and disappearing into nowhere.

The music continued, the scent of forest and fruit taking up more senses than it should...

A hand clasped hers at last, warm, larger and rougher than she was used to. And - she forced herself - she looked up to meet his eyes, and immediately felt the hunger inside her unfold to tremendous proportions--his head dipped closer to hers and she welcomed it--

She rebelled. Not she - not this! "Commodore - but what about _your_ Elizabeth?" she said, because she had not been able to resist coming up with possibilities for why he should

"What the bloody hell," said Commodore Norrington, proving his naval background in yet another way. He leapt away, the touch on her hand went light once more, as it had been when they danced that afternoon, in another world.

"We have given you a dance, son of our soil, son of our sea; very traditional." A face at the edge of the room spoke with a susurrus of leaves. "We have given you brides. Make a choice."

"And your choice cannot be to continue carrying the stain of the other gods with you!" said a brighter, sunlight voice. "No, indeed."

 _How dare you_ , nothing said, but the thought was immense. _How dare you carry them with you, here, to your peaceful home. To stink so of their blood…_

"Commodore," Elizabeth whispered, with strength for hardly anything more. "What now?"

"We can wait for more of an explanation, or smash everything here," he said, tone of voice very nearly ordinary. He had been more shaken when he apologised to her! "I can't say it will solve the problem, but I do find that it does even in cases like these. Bingley will simply have to forgive me - but he is a forgiving sort."

He ran into the midst of the creatures at the edge of the circle and something crashed tremendously. Dust flew everywhere.

Elizabeth, abandoned and astonished, then acted mostly on reflex. She grabbed the nearest dancer - the other women were still dancing! - for the comfort of identifying a solid thing. She pulled her along, then grabbed another hand - oh, where were her sisters? - and then led them running through all the whispers and slight faces, and then pulled at the first solid thing she could find. A small table. It went clattering. Instantly, breathing was easier. The destruction continued, and soon all the dancers were helping, meeting each other's eyes, and even hurling loose books at any strange, unsupported lights, which then winked out swiftly.

Servants of Netherfield house threw the ballroom doors open. The dance was over.

 

 

When they were all done, in another room, and had perfectly ordinary candles lit, everyone babbled at once of their different experiences of the enchantment. But a point came where everyone abruptly fell silent, shivering even where a finger or two of brandy had been poured and blankets had been given to preserve modesty and ward off shock, and then Commodore Norrington told them that he believed he had been cursed, or at least picked up remnants of a curse, and why.

"So then it is perfectly understandable that you have never told much about your time in the Caribbean," Elizabeth said.

"Gold that turns you immortal? That is heathenry, Commodore," Mary said severely. "I can easily secure an introduction to our local parson. Surely that must help." She had her hands clasping her elbows and was shaken, but was putting her normal rigidity to good use. The Commodore smiled back at her.

"The walk to the parson might be enough to do me in, tonight, Miss Mary. I think that the - ah - the Fair Folk wish to bring me back to the side of English soil, to wash away the cursed blood of the Americas that apparently taints me by association. And their method of luring me back was to find me a likely bride, without bothering with so much as an introduction in several cases. To thwart them and face the night does not seem wise."

"Oh, Elizabeth - do you think they sent you the dreams you've been having, as part of this torment? Or perhaps it was a higher power, with some warning…" Jane said. "And Commodore - do you think this curse will last ... until such a moment as you do marry?"

"I find it likely. A cleverly chosen curse, since the stories do say that the Fair Folk like to play with a human toy for a few centuries on end."

"No need to be so sardonic," Jane said. "Commodore Norrington - I believe that we might, at least, be engaged tonight, if it would assist you in gaining freedom."

He gaped at her, but Jane could take anything, very nearly, with equanimity.

She was, however, surprised when Elizabeth requested a moment to speak with the Commodore away from the crowd.

 

 

"I assure you I have no intent of - of harming your sister, or of forcing her to take a step such as this--"

"Commodore Norrington. I would, for once, like to talk about you instead. Or at least, my impression of you."

"Strange, foolish, and remarkably permissive for a naval officer of my rank," he very nearly snapped. "I can imagine, thank you."

"You were judged, Commodore Norrington, you can indeed be assured. Yes, indeed," she affirmed, kindly and smilingly to soothe the surge of alarm that showed in his expression; in her tone, she hoped was evident, was the self-blame that cast the judgement back on herself. "And yet, despite what I had decided to think of you, since we met I have dreamt ... I dreamt of ships. My dreams bore no portent of this madness we have experienced these past few nights, as Jane assumed - only a longing on my own part for things I have not the least idea about. Which will not fade, regardless of any attempts on my part to curb the foolishness. There seemed, and seems, to be an appealing air of freedom around you and what you do. You have known things that I have barely thought to imagine. You have simply been so far, and any companion that you have would be with you in that, too..."

Could she be more plain? She was brazen! Mercenary! That her desires had nothing to do with money did not make

Elizabeth spoke with burning cheeks. "I feel that I have used you ill in these confessions and assertions; and you are too courageous and honourable to deserve such treatment. For me to think you of in terms of what you represent, instead of the man that you are."

"And I can't say that I feel as maltreated as you think. You have been kind to me, and forgiven me unfair actions towards you without even an indication of noticing my untoward behaviours - though I am sure someone so sharp as you will have taken note of them."

She nearly spoke of her first impression of him, how positive it had been despite what her sisters had said, as if that might signify enough kindness and fascination in her view of him as a person to justify a union. Would it not be nothing but foolish? Elizabeth said instead, "Circumstances have it so that we have something to offer each other, and ... I cannot help but admire you greatly, and to enjoy what I can get of your company, even when I have attempted not to."

"As have I," Norrington said, quickly, and Elizabeth found that they both let out a little laugh. "I have been afraid to love for some time, and yet, when it came to you, there was something that at the same time I did not wish to turn away from. But, Elizabeth." He said the name naturally this time. "I will not tie you to something so mad and sudden."

"You offer me any number things I might have hoped for in a husband; and your mere presence offers me a freedom that I might not have known to want."

 

 

They marched back to the assembled crowd of girls.

"Jane. I defy you, sweet sister," said Elizabeth. "I shall show myself an ungrateful wretch and steal your thunder. Scandalously, I have..."

There was a ghost at her back, then, but not for an instant did Elizabeth feel the dread terror that she now associated with strange happenings - though there was fear of a kind. The ghost brushed her shoulder, her fingers with the sweetest warmth, and then settled, a most human thing, at the bend of her arm. She and Norrington crooked their arms together as though they prepared to take a chaperoned walk. The fear came paired with a thrill, and it brought along the sensation of her skin prickling with energy, but this time with her mind fully her own.

The gesture spoke well enough for them.

And then followed the difficulties of getting everyone home without trouble. It was dark, fortunately, and the estates of the neighbourhood not so far apart. They took some Netherfield carriages and drove as near as they dared to the homes of the other young women, and from there everyone had to find their ways through the windows and doors that the Fair Folk had somehow caused to open without anyone stopping them.

When no more practicalities came between Elizabeth and ... and James, a window still did. She put her hand through it and he took it with a firm squeeze; he looked at her with hope, though she hardly knew what there was to read on her own face, and she felt her heart beat wildly.

There was something here to build. And so they would.


End file.
